This might sound a bit much but, honestly, I don't know if I care anymore? I used to want desperately to be forgetten but these days either's fine.
Everyone's interpreting each other through so many subjective lenses and have their idea of "you" naturally skewed/diluted by the very nature of how people relate (through what context they know, have, and can understand). It's with a similar detachment I view my death. If they want to mourn or hate or claim to love their idea of me, what does it matter personally? I won't exist then (if I even do now), and they'll be projecting onto a corpse. They can see whoever they'd like in that body, y'know? It'll never be me.
It's probably more than a little fucked up of me, but I find it to be a comforting or maybe freeing thought.